


You Like The Hit And Run

by felonazcorp



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Clothed Sex, F/M, Merlin is going to get into so much trouble for this, Office Sex, PWP, Squirting, Unsafe Sex, i'm not even sorry, like seriously, this has zero plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:04:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4297008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felonazcorp/pseuds/felonazcorp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxy was never in the habit of speculating about her coworker's sex lives, nor their sexual prowess. </p>
<p>But if she <i>had</i> to offer her opinion on Merlin, she would have probably said that she thought he was methodical, a perfectionist, and that he attacked the task ahead with that same single-minded focus she knows all too well from running missions with him in her ear. He'd be technically proficient, but lacking in all the silly little slips and messes that make sex <i>fun</i>. His partner would walk away satisfied, but feeling like something was missing.</p>
<p>Let it not be said that Roxanne Morton can't admit when she's wrong about something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Like The Hit And Run

Roxy was never in the habit of speculating about her coworker's sex lives, nor their sexual prowess. 

But if she _had_ to offer her opinion on Merlin, she would have probably said that she thought he was methodical, a perfectionist, and that he attacked the task ahead with that same single-minded focus she knows all too well from running missions with him in her ear. He'd be technically proficient, but lacking in all the silly little slips and messes that make sex _fun_. His partner would walk away satisfied, but feeling like something was missing.

Let it not be said that Roxanne Morton can't admit when she's wrong about something. 

Her hands fly down to clutch at the head between her thighs, a frustrated noise vibrating in her throat when she remembers that he doesn't have any hair for her to grab. So she makes do, draping her leg over his shoulder, her stocking-clad foot digging into his lower back as she tugs him closer, her other foot lifting to brace against the arms of his chair.

“ _Fuck_ —Merlin, I swear to god...” 

He rumbles something that sounds like a laugh, but thankfully he doesn't let up, his tongue flicking at her clit as he curls two fingers inside her and _pumps_ his hand, his free arm curled over her hips to pin her down against his desk as he mercilessly pushes her straight into her second orgasm in a row.

She squeals, actually _squeals_ , her fingers digging into the edge of his desk as she trembles, and when he doesn't stop in the slightest, she feels herself twisting beneath him like a fish on a hook, pressure building up inside her until she lets go with a wail and comes so hard she _gushes_ all over his hand, squirting hard enough to drench his chin and then his neck and chest as he pulls back to watch her. 

His low groan goes completely unheard, Roxy far too busy trying not to tremble off his desk as she comes down from her orgasm, her cunt clamping down around his fingers to keep them inside her.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” she breathes, quivering and over-sensitive, a whine slipping through her teeth when he leans back in to lap at her gently, his tongue probing the aching flesh still stretched around his fingers. “Oh my god, that's never happened before.” 

She sounds dazed, even to her own ears. 

“Never?” 

Lifting her head takes far more effort than she thinks it should, but once she does, she gets to see his expression morph from surprised to unbearably smug. If she wasn't sure if she still had legs or not, she'd probably try to kick him. 

“Fuck you, Merlin,” she grumbles, letting her head fall back down to his desk, her hips shifting to rock down against his fingers almost absently. 

He kisses her cunt again, laving his tongue over her clit and humming when she jumps. “Yes, please.” 

She whines when he pulls his hand free of her, feeling slightly mollified when he doesn't take his mouth off her, replacing his fingers with his tongue as he peels her leg off his shoulder, his fingers sticky through her ripped pantyhose as he grips her thighs. His hands feel huge against her legs, his fingers digging in tight enough to bruise as he pushes her legs back, steadily lifting himself out of his chair until he can't keep his mouth on her skin anymore. 

He looks a complete mess, his glasses fogged at the edges, his cheek and lips flushed and wet, his shirt and the front of his jumper sticky and wet from her come, his trousers tented obviously. Seeing him framed between her thighs has her cunt clenching needily around nothing, and she doesn't stop the desperate groan that slips from her mouth, her hands reaching down to grab at him, her stomach clenching so that she can lift up enough to fumble at his belt. 

“Get this fucking shit off—” she gasps, finally managing to pull his shirt tails out of the waist of his trousers. 

“So impatient,” he murmurs, squeezing her thighs before finally reaching up to pull his jumper off by yanking at the back until it pulls over his head. 

Roxy rolls her eyes at him and reaches for his tie the moment she can, yanking hard and smirking when he has to slam a hand down on the desk beside her to keep from tumbling down on top of her. “Shut up, and fuck me already,” she breathes, biting at his mouth, licking past his lips and swallowing the pleased moan he lets out into her mouth. 

She likes the hand-hold his tie provides so much that she wraps it around her fist and keeps him bent over her, lifting her legs to wrap them around his waist as he fumbles between them enough to push his trousers down just enough that he can pull his cock out and rub it against her. 

“I'll suck you later,” she promises, lifting her hips by tightening her legs around his waist, feeling the shaft of his prick slip along her slick skin. “I'm serious, Merlin, just fuck me, _please._ ” 

Maybe it was the begging, maybe he just grew impatient himself, it doesn't matter. What matters is how he shifts against her, holding himself steady against her and pressing in, waiting until the head of his cock has slid into her before removing his hand and bracing himself against the desk. She half-expects him to slide in nice and slow to tease her, to keep hold of the reins, but it seems Merlin lives to be contrary, because she barely has time to catch her breath before he hunches his hips sharply and slams into her. 

She yelps, the hand she doesn't have holding his tie hostage flying up to scrabble at his back, her fingernails dragging along the sweaty cotton of his shirt. “Fuck!” 

To his credit, he holds himself steady then, his hips pressed to hers, the fly of his trousers pressing into her thighs uncomfortably. She's pretty sure his zipper is going to shred her pantyhose even more than they already have been, but that's not important enough to think about. “Alright, darling?” 

The only response he gets from her is a wanton moan as she angles her hips higher, pulling him in deeper with her legs, her ankles crossed at the small of his back. 

“Alright, then,” he murmurs against her lips, sounding horribly smug again, but Roxy allows it because he takes that moment to start to move, pulling out of her slowly and then slamming back in without warning. 

She feels like her body is aflame, like he's lit a fire deep inside her with his cock, and each drag of his skin is just adding fuel to the flames, pleasure sparking up her spine that has her gasping against his mouth with every shift of his hips. 

It gets impossible to think, then, her whole world narrowed down to the feel of his cock stretching her cunt, dragging deliciously across her sensitive skin, lighting her up from the inside. She thinks they keep kissing, but if they do, it's Merlin who does most of the work, because she's pretty sure all she can manage is to lie there, open-mouthed, whimpering and mewling when he does something she particularly likes. 

To her surprise — and slight horror — she can feel herself winding up again. 

Clutching at his back, she tries to warn him. “Merlin, I'm, I'm going to—” 

He cuts her off with a particularly forceful kiss, their teeth clacking together before he angles his head slightly and then it's all wet heat and stroking tongues, his nose pressing into her cheek. 

She comes like that, bunching the back of his shirt in her fingers, his tie clutched tight in his fist, her teeth digging into his lower lip as she trembles beneath him. She barely has enough breath to moan, only being able to manage a strangled whine, but it seems that is perfectly alright in Merlin's book, because she can feel him moaning against her lips as well, and although he fucks her steadily through her orgasm, by the time she feels a little more in control of herself, she can feel his rhythm start to falter. 

“Yeah, that's it,” she breathes, smoothing out her hand on his back and sliding it up and down in a gentle caress, tightening her legs, her calves pressing into the flexing muscles of his arse as he pounds into her. “Fuck me, baby. I wanna feel it when you come.” 

He does, and she does. 

He manages a handful more thrusts into her before his hips stutter and he presses deep into her, and Roxy gets to watch his face contort as he groans loudly. She can _feel_ his cock flex inside her, and oh god, that's probably the hottest thing that's happened to her all night, hotter even than watching him rise from between her legs, wet from her come. 

She moans quietly, letting go of his tie so she can cup his face in her hands and hold in him place so she can kiss him, sucking his lower lip into her mouth to nibble on it. 

Merlin is heavy, for all that he's pretty slim, but right now Roxy doesn't give a fuck about that, and so she lets him slump against her happily, smoothing her hands over the curve of his skull and sliding them down across his shoulders, her fingers splaying wide as she hums in satisfaction, fighting the urge to laugh just in case he thinks she's laughing at _him_. Men can be so sensitive, sometimes.

“Oh wow,” she murmurs finally, her smile curling wide when he nuzzles her cheek as he gets his elbows under him again. She's still lying on her back on his desk, obviously, and this angle gives her a perfect view of his ceiling, including the cameras installed there. 

She freezes, her fingers curled around the back of his neck, staring at the camera with its gently blinking red light. 

“Merlin?” she asks, deceptively calm. “Have you been recording this?” 

Merlin doesn't even have the grace to look sheepish when he lifts his head to look at her, just arches his eyebrows at her and purses his lips a little. 

“You're the one who ambushed me while I was working,” he points out. 

Which, alright, fair enough. “You were supposed to be off the clock,” she offers in lieu of an apology. She doesn't actually feel sorry, though, and neither does Merlin if the smile that's starting to curve his lips is any indication. “Can I see it?” 

He cocks his head slightly to one side and gives her a suspiciously innocent look. “See what?” 

He must know what she's talking about. Stupid bastard just wants to make her ask. She deliberately clenches down around the cock that's still pressed inside her and takes a petty sort of pleasure out of watching the way his eyelids droop and he fights against a shiver. 

“The video, Merlin.” 

“Oh, the _video._ ” He makes a show of thinking about it for a moment, and she's just about to gripe at him about it when he grins. “Alright, but only on one condition.” 

Roxy would feel a little apprehensive about that, but right now she's got his come leaking out of her cunt and his softening cock still pressed inside her, so it's kind of hard to take him all that seriously. “Which is?” 

He stands up properly, finally, his hands settling on her thighs and sliding up to her hips so he can curl his fingers under the waist of her ruined pantyhose and her underwear that they just shoved to the side in their haste. “That you take off these bloody knickers,” he says, tugging them slowly down over her hips. “I want to be able to touch you properly.” 

Roxy lifts her hips immediately, making a soft noise of protest when he slips out of her completely, getting her hands under herself to watch as he peels her ripped tights off her legs before tossing them aside. She notices that he slips her knickers into his pocket, though, but then she gets distracted by staring at his prick where it still hangs out of her trousers, thick and flushed and wet with their come. 

She has a feeling she's going to be in for a long night.


End file.
